


To Trod In Your Shade

by HiMyNameIsNotSlimShady



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: "I want to hurt your feelings because I'm hurting on the inside", Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Defensive tactics, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Lashing Out, Open Ending, Self Confidence Issues, reassurance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:57:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2432921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiMyNameIsNotSlimShady/pseuds/HiMyNameIsNotSlimShady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Some other men would think so, however I don't share the sentiment. I suffer from the affliction of loving selfish ambitious women with not a care for anyone but themselves. Even if my affections are returned, it seems their own agenda is far more important than a happy life with a crippled knight. I care not for this quest, or the oath, or even fucking Hyle who bleats like a fucking goat for you to leave virgin's blood on his cock." Jaime ran a hand over his face, an ill attempt to wipe away the exaustion. His shoulders slumped from their tenseness and he turned slowly back to her. "Realize your folly. We have done all that is possible. Sansa Stark is dead, and perhaps it's safer she stay that way. We turn back tomorrow and we live."</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Trod In Your Shade

**Author's Note:**

> The angst is real.  
> This kind of just popped into my head and I rolled with it. Also, Brienne's defensive tactic of lashing out at others because she's not okay with herself is something I do. I felt it was like I connected to the character even if it was how I'd written her.  
> Leave a comment or kudos if you'd like!

The night air hung heavy in the sky and stung like frenzied bees on unclothed flesh. The wind was frigid and some frost littered the ground in peppered patches. A fire roared loudly, cooking the flesh of some poor rabbit that earlier in the day had the misfortune of running into a snare. Small comforts for the weary, beaten travellers around it. Small comforts indeed.

"Further north then?" Jaime asked with a sneer. He was clothed in furs and sat rather arrogantly on a tree stump by the fire. He broke gaze with the flames and made for contact with Brienne's own blue eyes. She stood opposite him with his white cape tugged around her. Her ugly face cast more disfigured by her ruined cheek and the play of shadows by the fire. She spared him a dissmisive glance.

"The Eyrie held no fortune for us and we are close to Seagard. We will resupply there and continue to The Twins," Brienne replied stoically. Jaime smiled mockingly and shook his head. He glanced over to the sleeping Pod and Hyle Hunt on their more than wanting cots. They'd been given two drops of milk of the poppy to help them sleep. Hours of unbroken rest lay before them. He flexed the fingers on his left hand and found the crinkle of leather a somewhat small luxury.

"The Stark girl is dead. There's no use."

He rose and stood in his own right against her. The flames crackled between them and her face darkened through its casted light. Jaime steeled himself and felt his own face harden.

"You took an oath to return Sansa Stark to-"

"To her mother? The bitch who is now  _completely_ dead, thanks to your own trickery to lead me to almost certain death and, in cause, your past lady's second demise. Her brother, King of the North, with his own head lost and a wolf's sewn crudely to his corpse, buried the seven even knows where? Or perhaps her sister Arya who is dead for probably over a year now? And don't forget her brother Bran lost over the wall and useless from the waist down! And please don't mention the smallest Stark boy who can barely talk. No one has heard of him. No one has seen him. They are gone. The Starks have been wiped out!" Jaimed hissed. His hand balled into a fist, trying to control his rage. Brienne glared heatedly at him and the scar on her cheek turned an ugly shade purple, either from the cold or the angry red that traveled up her neck.

"To stop is to admit defeat and the failing of my oath. An oath I swore to Lady Catelyn twice. I cannot let this be the excecutioner's swing to the last of my honor," Brienne ground out. The wind seared Jaime's face but her words branded his heart.

"You'd risk the life of Pod and Hunt for your honor? Podrick is just a child. A _child_."

Brienne glanced to the sleeping forms in question and she shivered, pulling the mud stained cloak closer to her.

"I've released them of all duty, but they follow me still," Brienne whispered and then turned to Jaime. "As do you Jaime. I've risked your life and yet here you are. You laugh and jest and take watch. You travel with me, eat with me, sleep beside me on the cold ground and make fires to warm my shivering body. You are here for a reason. That oath ties you to me and even your conscience won't let you leave till it's been settled!"

Jaime rounded on her with a quick speed. Brienne stumbled slightly, surprise etched on her face as he pushed her to the ground. She landed with a hard smack and a rustle of her armor. Brienne bared her teeth and the skin around her mouth stretched the ugly scar horrendously.

"I stay for you Brienne! Not for some oath! You!"

Jaime ran a hand over his face and stalked back and forth in front of her.

"Wench, you try my patience. You make it  _very_ difficult to love you. When this insanity is over-"

"And when will it be over Jaime? Did you think that in this abyssmal darkness, I'd be your shining light? That loving eachother forever together and always apart would end with your family's cloak on my shoulders and me laying in your bed?" Brienne asked with a snarl. Jaime made a step towards her that she met with defiance. He took a deep breathe and attempted to calm his anger.

"Some other men would think so, however I don't share the sentiment. I suffer from the affliction of loving selfish ambitious women with not a care for anyone but themselves. Even if my affections are returned, it seems their own agenda is far more important than a happy life with a crippled knight. I care not for this quest, or the oath, or even fucking Hyle who bleats like a fucking goat for you to leave virgin's blood on his cock." Jaime ran a hand over his face, an ill attempt to wipe away the exaustion. His shoulders slumped from their tenseness and he turned slowly back to her. "Realize your folly. We have done all that is possible. Sansa Stark is dead, and perhaps it's safer she stay that way. We turn back tomorrow and we live."

Jaime made his way around her to slip into his own cot when Brienne grasped the fabric of his pants.

"I am scared Jaime," Brienne sighed with streaks running down her face, her blue eyes bleeding sky tinted tears. Jaime turned to her, watched her struggle to her knees. His once white cloak had fallen to the ground and a shuddering mass was left in its wake.

"What am I without this? I have failed Renly, I have failed Lady Catelyn, I have failed you Jaime! What meaning do I have? How can I love you when I despise myself? How can you love me after all of this? Who am I? What will I have when this is taken from me?"

Jaime dropped to his knees and Brienne buried her face in his neck as she gasped for air. She tightened her arms around him as he pulled her flush against him.

"You are Brienne of Tarth," Jaime whispered into her ear. "You are a truer knight than ever there was. You are kind and strong and stubborn to the high hells. Brienne, you have failed no one, no one but your misguided sense of self. With that noose around your neck, you chose to save Pod. You chose rightly. I don't blame you, no matter the piss poor words that spill from my mouth, I will never blame you."

Jaime held her tearful face between his hand and stump and kissed her nose. She grasped his left wrist tightly and sobbed loudly.

"You did all in your power for Renly and Stoneheart. You need not complete this impossible quest to prove anything to yourself. Wherever you are, honor and nobility follow. And how lucky I am to trod in your shade." Jaime kissed her lips gently and smiled softly as she rose up to meet him. He ran his thumb over her smooth cheek and then kissed her scar on the other.

"Jaime-"

"I love you Brienne. I spoke those words at the ruins of Harrenhal did I not?"

"You did. And I replied the same," Brienne said shivering. Jaime grabbed the fallen cloak and expertly laid it back across her shoulders. The steam from their breathes mingled for a moment as they simply looked at each other, the coldness on one side of their bodies and the warmth from the fire on the other.

"I would have you for a husband," Brienne whispered. Jaime smiled and kissed her again.

"The greatest gift ever given to me was wrought from your lips just now."

Brienne returned a small smile and ran a hand through Jaime's hair. He closed his eyes in response and leaned their foreheads together.

"I'd like to go home now Brienne. Let's go home."

Brienne gave a long breathe and Jaime felt the warmth of it caress his face as he kept his eyes shut. Her hands made to cradle his face and she pulled gently at the whiskers on his jaw.

"Yes Jaime. Yes." 


End file.
